Never Alone
by CupcakesOnMyConverse
Summary: "You can't know. You can't know unless you've been through it, and Sam, and you haven't...have you?" When Quinn and Sam get into an argument, big secrets are revealed that bring them even closer.


_A/N: Based on a prompt on the livejournal glee_angst_meme. I fell in love with it and had to share._

"So, are we on for Friday night?" Sam asks his girlfriend Quinn as he approaches her locker. He smiles at her. She's so damn beautiful it makes his heart ache. "I rented a couple movies, we can cuddle and eat popcorn, and stuff." She looks at him, and the expression on her face makes his smile quickly fade. She seems unimpressed by his offer, and she shuts her locker, turning to face him, looking at him as if it were some kind of chore.

Sam knits his eyebrows, confused. He rewinds the past couple of days, trying to remember if he'd done something wrong. He can't think of a single thing.

"Whatever I did...I'm sorry," Sam apologizes, still unsure what for. He expects Quinn to smile her sweet smile, kiss him on the cheek, and take his hand so he could walk her to class. She doesn't. She just rolls her eyes, and walks past him towards her History class down the hall.

"I guess I'll take that as a no for tonight," he calls after her, almost a question. She turns around, a blank expression on her face, shrugs, then continues on her way to class.

_What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

Sam lets out an exasperated sigh, and heads in the opposite direction on his way to Geometry.

The moment his teacher begins writing the words 'Theorems of Special Triangles' on the board, Sam gives up on paying any attention. Listening to the teacher drone on in her monotonous voice put him to sleep more than it helped him learn. It was a miracle- a miracle in the form of Quinn Fabray- that he was passing this class at all. Dyslexia was a bitch.

Sam watches the clock tick. Fifteen minutes seem to be an eternity. The seconds drag more than usual. Sighing in resignation, he turns his attention back to the board. There's already a haze of notes that Sam will never be able to understand scrawled in Mrs. Waters' chicken-scratch. Maybe Quinn would be more open to helping him study. Not exactly his idea of an ideal Friday night, but at least she'd be spending time with him. Probably not, though. She'd been acting like this more and more lately, ragging on him about the littlest things, starting random arguments. And it wasn't like he could talk to her about it. Quinn never seemed to be in the mood for talking anymore.

His mom had advised him to break up with her on several occasions, seeing how much it hurt her son when she acted like this. But Sam just couldn't bring himself to do it. He loves Quinn. Loves Quinn a lot. And he can't break up with her without knowing what's going on. It doesn't hurt that she doesn't call him anymore. It just hurts that she doesn't feel like she can talk to him about whatever was going on.

He spots Mike across the room, copying the notes into his notebook. Maybe Mike would let him photocopy the notes. Then his mom could help him dissect whatever it was that Mrs. Waters wanted him to get out of the lesson.

Checking to make sure that Mrs. Waters was distracted, Sam pulls out his phone under his desk, feeling better at the picture of the blond girl smiling back at him. He then composes a text, and sends it to Quinn.

_we need 2 tlk. meet me the choir rm during free pd. ily. -S_

Two more periods pass, and Quinn doesn't answer the text. Sam is nervous, wondering if this means that she's going to break up with him.

It's time for free period, and Sam makes his way to the choir room, praying to god that she would be there. Again, he's disappointed. Five minutes pass. Then ten. Then fifteen. It's been half an hour when Quinn finally makes her way into the choir room. She's sheepish- refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Hey," she whispers, standing in front of the door as if prepared to leave.

"What took you so long?" he asks, not masking the fact that he's entirely pissed off.

"I was...in the library...researching. For my...history paper. It's worth twenty-five percent of my grade, and-"

"And you turned it in three days ago," Sam cuts her off, his tone clipped. "Artie was telling me about it last week. You two are in the same class, right?" Quinn's mouth hangs open, and then she drops her head, finding her shoes particularly interesting.

"Sam, I-"

"You what, Quinn? Honestly," she doesn't answer him, just glances at him, shaking her head, but doesn't speak. "I'm just tired of the games."

"Just break up with me already," she whispers, her eyes welling with tears. Sam approaches her, takes her soft hands in his own calloused ones, and tries to get her to look at him, but she refuses.

"What are you talking about?" he asks.

"I'm a terrible girlfriend. I'm moody. I don't call when I say I will. I cancel dates last minute. I lie to you. I bully you. I'm not a good person, and you deserve so much better than me." Sam sighs when he realizes that this is the most that she's talked to him all week. And she's putting herself down.

"I love you, because of and despite all of those things. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen..._ever_. And I don't deserve any part of you, Quinn because you are as good as it gets." She starts shaking her head before he even finishes what he's saying. "I just want you to be honest with me. What the hell is bothering you?" Quinn lets out a sigh, taking Sam's hand and leading him to the chairs in the choir room. He pulls a chair around so that he can face her when she talks.

"Do you remember...our first...date?" she asks, not making eye contact with him. Sam smiles at the memory- one of the best moments he'd had since moving to Lima.

"Yeah," he says, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. She stares at their hands, and briefly looks up at him before looking away again.

"Do you remember what you said to me...after I told you about what happened...last year?" Sam has to think for a moment, but then it comes back to him.

"That everyone has secrets that they're ashamed of...and that I dyed my hair with lemon juice." The both of them laugh quietly about the memory, and it goes silent for several moments. Sam remembers how his secret hadn't been his hair. He pushes that away, and focuses back on Quinn.

"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about," Quinn says after a while. Sam raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her. "You told me that you understood. I've been thinking about it lately, and you..._don't_. You don't know how I felt, or the ridicule that I went through. You can't know. You can't know unless you've been through it, and Sam...you haven't. Don't act like you understand what it's like, because both of us know that you don't." It's now Sam's turn to look away bashfully, and he bites his lower lip, not meeting Quinn's critical stare. "Have you?" she asks, and her voice sounds so weak that Sam's head whips back around to look at her. She looks...horrified.

"I didn't know what the best time to tell you this would be," Sam admits, reaching for the phone in his pocket. He opens it up, and shows Quinn the picture of the smiling little girl. She takes the phone with shaking hands, tears welling in her eyes once again. "Her name is Sarah. She's eighteen months old."

Quinn studies the picture for a long time before handing the phone back to Sam.

"She looks like you," Quinn chokes out.

"Only since I dyed my hair," he says, laughing humorlessly. "She's basically a clone of her mom." Quinn raises an eyebrow at him, clearly intrigued.

"Sophie was my ex-girlfriend from my old school. She went to the sister school of the private school I went to. We met at a dance. We were fourteen, and freshmen in high school. We'd been dating for four months. It was stupid. We got carried away. Nine months later, I had a daughter." Quinn just stares at her boyfriend, not sure of what to say.

"It was all okay. Sophie wanted nothing to do with me after, and insisted that she take care of Sarah all by herself. I offered, and she didn't take it. I tried sending her money, but she just sent it back. She was pretty happy when I told her I was moving and changing schools." Sam laughs darkly at this, and continues with the story.

"A few weeks ago, I got a call from Sophie's parents. Sophie died in a car accident because she was drunk. Her parents wanted absolutely nothing to do with Sarah anymore than they had to, and basically forced her onto me. She moved in with me two months ago. I've been 'Daddy' ever since."

"And you didn't think to tell me any of this?" Quinn asks, her voice breaking and cracking at random intervals.

"We'd just started dating when she moved in. I didn't want to scare you away." Quinn shakes her head, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

"I don't believe this! How could you not tell me? _Especially _after what happened last year, Sam!"

"Quinn...I just...I really like you. It would've killed me if you'd rejected me. It all happened so fast. Literally the day I asked you out my mom was waiting at the kitchen table with a lawyer when I got home from school. A week later there was a crib in my bedroom. I-I'm sorry." Quinn shook her head, kissing Sam lightly on the cheek.

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I know."

"How come I never see her when I come over?"

"Because I've made sure that she's out with my mom and that all the baby crap is hidden before you come over," Sam shrugs. Quinn laughs.

"I'd...I'd _really..._like to meet her, Sam. If that's okay with you." Sam nods excitedly at his girlfriend, and pulls her into a tight hug. And for the first time in a long time, both Sam and Quinn feel like they're not alone.

_AN: Please review._


End file.
